David Golemon - Ripper

“Ammunition, fuel, everything was intact. There was no deterioration of the aluminum used in the Avenger’s manufacture. The cockpits were dry and their canopies were closed. The aircraft show no sign of being ditched after running out of fuel. Well, we know now that they didn’t run out as each torpedo bomber had at least 300 gallons still in its tank. There were no signs of the pilots or their crews.”

“How could these planes still be intact?” Everett asked as he ran his hand along the wing of one of the giant single-engine aircraft.

“That’s why we have to study them,” Niles said as even the preoccupied Collins reached out and touched one of the dangling belts of fifty-caliber ammunition hanging from an exposed port in the left-side wing. The rounds on their belt looked to be new. There were no signs of water corrosion or crash damage anywhere on the dive Avengers. The tires on the landing gear were still pliable and filled with air.

“It’s like they were snatched out of the sky and placed inside that seamount and the cave at its base. Then it seems they were protected by something in the water that we don’t understand … yet,” Virginia said as she too looked up at the first large Avenger sitting before her. “But we will get to the bottom of this, before the FBI gets into the full swing of investigating the disappearance of such a valuable military find.”

“Amazing,” Sarah said gazing up at the magnificent aircraft every man, woman, and child would probably recognize thanks to the rampant Bermuda Triangle theories being pushed by the media. “The next time you two sneak out to go on vacation, please take me with you. This had to be as exciting as it gets.”

Jack stopped touching the aircraft and turned and smiled at Sarah. She returned his smile. He was never surprised by Sarah’s take on the historical world. She was like a small schoolgirl giddy over everything the vault levels had to offer. He loved her for that. Her enthusiasm for her work was something that he himself was having a hard time coming to terms with. Collins once more pulled the printed sheet of paper from his pocket and again offered it to the director. Niles looked from Jack to his assistant director, Virginia.

“I guess our toys didn’t do the trick we had hoped they would on the outlook of Colonel Collins here, Virginia,” Niles said taking the offered paper from Jack’s hand. He started reading aloud so everyone, including Everett and Sarah, could hear.

“I, Colonel Jack Collins, U.S. Army, currently attached to Department 5656 of the National Archives, an entity of the federal government; hereby tender my resignation as colonel in the regular United States Army, effective immediately.”

Niles Compton looked up from the resignation letter and then removed his glasses. “I think we can find a better way than this, Jack. I do know how to handle the president; he’s bound to cool off. He doesn’t want to lose you or Sarah. You’ll be reprimanded officially for disobeying a direct order, but I’ll take the brunt of that and absorb anything the president orders our punishment to be. You knew we were headed for serious consequences over the raid when we decided to go.”

Jack smiled and then placed his arm around Sarah who was absolutely speechless when she had heard Jack’s decision.

“The letter stands. The president may feel better later,” he looked down into Sarah’s bruised and swollen eyes, “but I will not. Out of personal reasons I have placed members of my command and the people I am charged to protect in extreme jeopardy. I disobeyed a direct order from not only you Mister Director, but from the president of the United States. I find these facts to be unacceptable.” He reached down and kissed Sarah on the forehead, at the same time wiping a tear that had slid from her half-closed left eye. “Don’t worry, short stuff, I’ll be around for you, just not here. I’m not a very good officer anymore, but neither am I stupid.”

Sarah tried to smile as Jack let her go. They all watched in silence as Collins stepped to the vault door. He turned and looked at the five aircraft once more. That was one thing he would have to get used to, and that was not being in on the world’s great archaeological finds. But he knew as long as they had people in the Group as dedicated as the four men and women inside this new vault, the Event Group would still do its job. Then his eyes went to Captain Everett. He stood silent as the moment was just too much to take in. Instead of saying goodbye, Everett saluted without looking the colonel in the eyes.

“The navy doesn’t salute indoors, swabby. Only the army, of which I am no longer a part,” Jack said and then walked out amid the stunned silence inside of the vault.

Sarah turned to face Niles Compton. “Of course, you won’t accept his resignation, right?”

Niles handed the single sheet to Virginia and then looked at the lieutenant and replaced his glasses. He looked over at the much taller and stockier Everett who just stood inside the doorway. Sarah, to her shock, saw Everett shake his head negatively. Then he looked at Sarah.

“Can’t you see it, Sarah, Jack’s had it. He can’t do his job here and protect those he’s supposed to protect with you in the field.”

“Then I quit,” she said, starting to walk toward the vault door, but Everett placed his arm across the wide opening.

“Jack won’t allow that and you know it. So don’t hit your head up against that particular wall; you’ll end up looking worse than you already do.”

Niles stepped to the doorway and watched the form of Jack Collins head for the archway and the elevators beyond. He saw a man that wasn’t broken, just one that was afraid he couldn’t do his job any longer in the manner he was used to doing it. He turned and faced Everett and Virginia.

“Virginia, I need those CDC people on station in the next ten hours to start the study on this chemical that was recovered from Perdition’s Gate. Captain Everett, I need extra security on the labs where the work will be done. Don’t take any chances. Our former Event Group members who now work for the CDC in Atlanta know their stuff. They have top security clearance and they’ll have the run of the sciences divisions while on site.”

“Yes, sir,” Everett said, noticing how matter-of-factly the director had turned over the security department to him without so much as batting an eye. For the director, the Event Group had to go on, with or without Jack Collins safeguarding those seeking the truth of history.

With that said, the director of the Event Group stepped from the vault area and left behind a stunned and seething second lieutenant — Sarah McIntire.

After years of training not much different from that received by Jack Collins during his years in the United States Special Forces community, Colonel Henri Farbeaux, regular French army, Ret., had developed the same sixth sense that Collins himself had. He knew when he was being observed, and even in sleep his brain reacted to the danger. The Frenchman forced his eyes open. At first he saw the dim light coming from the fixture just above the headboard. As he tried to focus his eyes, his brain detected from which direction his observer was sitting. He saw the face and then the finer details came into view. The young female doctor who had attended to him upon his arrival at the Event Group Complex, Gilliam, he thought her name was, was just finishing up wrapping his observer’s hand in white gauze.

“So, you’ve come to see the drugged and caged animal, Colonel?” Henri said as the etched features of Jack Collins sharpened to a fine point.

Collins nodded at Gilliam in thanks and then flexed his left hand. The good doctor said the through-and-through bullet wound was pretty much cleaned, but she admonished him for being so late coming in for treatment. There was still a major chance of infection. Jack listened to Denise Gilliam without really hearing her words as he continued to look at Farbeaux. His eyes went to the handcuff holding Henri’s right hand to the chrome bedpost.